Aspiration
by MedusaOfTheSpecies
Summary: Muggle!AU, Dark!AU: Ginny Weasley may be the skeleton in the Weasley family closet, but Fleur Delacour is fond of deadly things.


**A/N:** Written for the GinnyFleur Character Appreciation challenge (Prompts: Muggle!AU, "You don't just marry someone because you bored!", tea kettle, perfume, and direct), the Big Damn Prompt Race Competition (Prompt: Sea green), The Chutes and Ladders challenge (Prompt: see me) and the Ultimate Patronus Quest Challenge (E, Ladybirds: 13. Write about Fleur Delacour)

This is a dark fic (don't let the words Muggle!Au fool you).

* * *

The first thing Fleur falls for is William's red hair, the way it seems to burn in the sun. She's human, yes, but her family is French and there are rumors surrounding about their ancestry, the glowing skin, the haunting blue eyes. They look inhumanely beautiful and it is Fleur's weapon against armies of men who fall for her careless beauty, her vain tendencies.

She is a creature of comfort, yes, but there is a part of her that knows that fire balls will rain out of her hands if she commands them to.

* * *

William's family disgusts her. They are all too loud and brash, and Molly Weasley is the most judgmental person she has ever had the unfortunate chance of meeting.

Charlie is the master of illusions but Fleur can see straight through him. No matter how charming he is when Bill introduces them, Fleur will never enjoy the company of a man who can leave behind his siblings and family. He claims to love these fire-breathing creatures, but dragons are fiercely loyal. They do not abandon their own.

The twins are mischievous and amuse her until they go too far. They are progressing, from funny transfigured animals to joke shop toys, to weapons pointed at war. Fleur doesn't think they understand what they are doing, what kind of war they are fighting for.

Ronald is bad-mannered and filthy and does not shower nearly enough for a boy his age. Fleur's nose crinkles delicately when he comes near and Molly Weasley glares at her, a mother hen not realizing how little she has to be proud about.

Percy- he is odd, yes, not quite the rest of them. He is far too ambitious and sharp to be a Weasley. Fleur likes him the most of all of William's siblings but he is still too young and brown-nosing to be a real friend to her.

Fleur is lonely and she does not even have anyone to admit it to.

* * *

She doesn't learn that William has a sister until she is already an unwanted guest in the household. She wakes early these days, untangles herself from William, and has breakfast before Moly Weasley is awake to fret over the way Fleur, unmarried, spends her nights in Williams's room.

She is eating strawberries and enjoying her buttered toast when she feels the familiar feeling of a gaze directed at her. She is resigned to it already- boys will be boys, even when she wants them to pay for it, and turns around.

And there she is; a girl, a visionary, with a cloud of red hair and a gaze so sharp it seems to cut through Fleur.

"You're Bills wife, aren't you?" The girl says with a lazy laugh, one finger curled in the tangled waves that pour down her back like lava, magma that has not be cooled by the earth's atmosphere.

"We are not married." Fleur says after the silence has become unbearable, because how can she explain this? What foolish girl moves half way across the world for a man she is not sure she even loves?

The girl moves across the room with a warriors grace until she is perched on the table, stealing Fleur's strawberries one by one.

"I didn't know Molly Weasley was letting unmarried girlfriends live in her house now." The girl says mischievously, winking at Fleur.

"She did not give permission per say," Fleur says, the corner of her mouth turning up in an amused smile. "But she didn't have much of a choice."

The girl laughs, an entertained kind of cackle that make Fleur feel torn between amusement and curiosity. "Well then, I must know the name of the woman who blackmailed my mother into this."

The world seems to freeze in place. "William did not tell me he had a sister."

The girl raises her eyebrow. "You're not the only skeleton this family would rather keep confined in their closets."

She does not even have time to comprehend that before the girl is gone again, as easily as she appeared.

* * *

Fleur is stony enough that the Weasley's notice when they storm down for breakfast, piling plates with oily foods that are too heavy for her to even look at.

"What's up with you this morning, Delacour?" Charlie grins, wagging his eyebrows at her. She does not find it funny.

She takes a careful sip of her tea instead, aware that everyone's eyes are on her. "I was unaware that you had a sister."

Molly Weasley's plate shatters against the floor.

* * *

William is quick to leave after that, grabbing her and getting half way out the door before Molly even speaks.

"You were foolish to mention her." He says angrily, eyes darkening with hatred.

"What has your sister done that is so horrible no one dares speak of her?' Fleur asks coldly.

William spits on the ground. "What hasn't she done?"

* * *

Fleur does not mention the sister after that but she does not forget about the topic. She learns- her name is Ginny, Percy is the only one who misses her.

She learns other things too, details less mentionable in the public's eyes. Ginny Weasley was a victim of a kidnapping attempt by the followers of Lord Voldemort, a man whose mission seems to be to overthrow the government. After she was rescued, by a Police Officer named Nymphadora Tonks and her partner, a Theodore Nott, Ginny Weasley was admitted into one of a re-education center run by Albus Dumbledore, the Prime Minister.

Upon her dismissal from the center after months of good behavior, Ginny Weasley burned down the Rehabilitation center, Albus Dumbledore's mansion, and the main hideout of Lord Voldemort, as well as breaking the marriage contract she had to Harry James Potter, the son of Dumbledore's biggest followers.

Ginny Weasley was not seen again after that and Fleur can almost taste the irony of a girl hunted by both sides of the war re-appearing in her childhood home.

* * *

It consumes her, this desire to find out more. She can't leave Britain anymore then she could stay in France and she knows it well enough to plan ahead. The steps are easy, already written in the stars: Marry William Weasley. Get rid of any suspicions Molly has about her. Lose her accent. Make herself an irreplaceable part of Britain's society. Figure out exactly what Ginny Weasley has been up to.

And then? Join her.

* * *

William is far too easy to convince. It doesn't take long, just a few dropped hints here and there and she finds herself standing inside a jewelry store, cooing over courting gifts.

It takes half a year for him to ask the question and she does not lie to herself this time around. She is not marrying for love but for a ticket into a warzone and the opportunities that marrying into a family of Prime Minister Albus Dumbledore's most avid followers can give her.

William thinks he loves her and Fleur is almost disappointed when she cannot gather up enough pity to even pretend to care over this. He is marrying her because she is beautiful and a perfect trophy on his arm, just boredom and lust and the opportunity to drive his mother further around the bend.

* * *

Molly Weasley is cautious and it makes it a fun challenge, but Fleur has years of practice in manipulations and a silver tongue to match her golden wedding ring. She works hard- practices her English syllables over the lunch table where Molly looks over; dresses in the typical trousers and dressers that the British appreciate; makes lovesick eyes at William when she feels Molly's gaze on her.

In the end, the way to Molly's heart is through her children. When the one year anniversary hits, Fleur rushes to the bathroom.

"Pregnant." Is the first word of Molly's tongue when Fleur walks into the room, apologizing.

Fleur knows she's won when she receives a hand knitted Weasley sweater and she resist the urge to tear it to shreds.

* * *

In the end, despite all of Fleur's plotting, Ginny Weasley is the one to find her first. Fleur is perched in the little French café near the bank where she works. Tuesdays are the only days she can afford to do this, to go back to the culture that she is so homesick for.

The seat in across from Fleur is empty until it is not, for when Fleur looks up, Ginny Weasley is seated in front of her, a grin on her crimson lips. _Do you see me?_ Ginny's eyes seem to ask and Fleur doesn't know how to start a conversation with a girl who barely knows her name, yet is all Fleur can think about.

"Your Bill's wife, aren't you?" Ginny mocks, her words a reminder of the day Fleur met Ginny and fell down the rabbit hole of no return. "Big bro decided he wanted to get shackled up- I can't exactly imagine a romantic proposal… did he get bored of mom's nagging?"

"You don't just propose to someone because you're bored!" Fleur snaps back. It's not a direct answer to Ginny's question but they are tight line walkers on an already delicate line.

"Not a very happy marriage." Ginny states back, equally sharp.

Ginny's gaze drops down to the sea-green Weasley sweater Fleur is wearing and her lips tighten. "Been busy, huh?"

"I'm pregnant." Fleur says, gesturing to her glowing complexion.

Ginny snorts. "I know that spell too. You're about as pregnant as you're fond of my mother."

Fleur purses her lips and unconsciously fiddles with the tea kettle. "Well, what were you implying then, Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny tosses her hair back. "You're society's darling, aren't you? But we both know you're here because France wasn't ready for the kind of takeover you wanted." Ginny leaned forward, words sharp and direct. "I want a revolution. Are you in?"

This is and they both know it. Fleur has been unconsciously holding her breathe and she lets it go with a gasp. "On one condition."

Ginny had leaned forward so much that the two were almost nose to nose now and Fleur can smell the other girl's floral perfume. "Anything."

Fleur stared back. Now or never. "Kiss me."

And she does.

* * *

Under their watchful gazes, Britain is scorched and rebuilt from the ashes of those who burned with it.


End file.
